The Johnny Depp Maternity Ward
by Hedo
Summary: Title derived from another fanfiction I read about Harry Potter characters. Backstories not previously mentioned in the original fanfictions of mine are brought to light or will be brought to light in this fiction.


I decided I'd write this because I've done so many MPREGs about Johnny Depp characters, and -good lord...- one about Johnny Depp himself. As you can guess, I call it "The Johnny Depp Maternity Ward", the title of which is derived from the story "The Harry Potter Maternity Ward". Welcome if you've never read my stuff before. Welcome back if this is another one of mine that you might love...you know who you are.

* * *

The first to sit down in the ward was Mr. Willy Wonka, chocolatier extraordinary. He was expecting a son and had been for the past 4 months. A few minutes later, Edward Scissorhands shuffled in and sat down timidly next to the chocolatier. There was awkward silence between the two until Ichabod Crane came in, trying not to vomit.

"Morning sickness?" Willy asked sympathetically. Ichabod nodded silently, sitting on the other side of him.

"It'll get better, trust me. I had it until a month or so ago." Willy said comfortingly. He cast a glance at Edward, who wouldn't make eye contact. Willy and Ichabod looked to one another and shrugged. Ah, well, if the boy didn't want to make eye contact, he didn't have to.

Another person came through the door, and the trio turned to see Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Oh god, not you too?!" Ichabod asked of his look-a-like before pressing his handkerchief to his mouth, nauseas again. Jack nodded somewhat sadly.

"Aye...me too. Painful as hell to deal with sometimes...my head hurts from fainting." the pirate said, resting lazily across two chairs. He changed his position so that he was only taking up the chair next to Edward. The door hinges squeaked again. Good lord, not another victim!

Mort Rainey stumbled into the room, holding his head.

"So...dizzy...so...sick..." he mumbled to himself.

"Don't tell me that we're all defying the laws of mother nature, here!" Jack begged. Mort shrugged.

"I'm here to get a test. What with that transsexual wannabe constantly writing stories about us having kids, you can't be too careful. Know what I mean?" Mort said. The other Depps nodded as Gilbert Grape wandered in and sat down without looking at the others. Then Sam, the Buster-Keaton-look-a-like and movie buff.

The cross-dressing receptionist ducked under her desk. That receptionist would be me. Not trying to break the rules against "self-insertion", or anything, but maybe it was high time I explained myself to these fellows. Or maybe let them check in. I crawled out from under the desk.

"Can I help you guys?" I asked. They all looked to one another, deciding who would go first. Willy stood up.

"I'm here for..."

"Yes, I already know..." I quietly interrupted him. "Ultrasounds and such. You're 4 months along and in a state of almost-euphoria. Exam room 7." I started filing my fingernails, which were getting girlishly long.

"How did you know?" the man asked me. I blew away the dust from my hands.

"I made all this up. This is my brand of reality, where Johnny Depp's characters are having kids. You'll be having a boy named Weldon. He'll take the same path as you, and his son will be named Winston."

"...wow..."

"Next?" I asked as Edward got up.

"I..."

"3 and a half months along, you're both the mother and the father, you're expecting a girl whom you will name Peg. I don't even have to take a blood test this time around, seeing as I wrote the whole thing. Exam room 4. Next?"

"Katrina said that..." Ichabod began.

"2 months along, didn't they warn you about having sex with Brom? Jack?"

"Tipsier than usual...nausea...and..."

"Bad bottle of 'rum', really a fertility tonic, can't tell quite where you are seeing as nobody really knew, baby boy to be named Johnny Chickadee, one month after the symptoms will show up again and that time around it'll be because you're built for the job and you're able to do it all alone. That one will be a girl named Jill. I'd suggest you go to that witch with the bright green hair, exam room 12."

"Can't stomach my toast and I passed out one day..." Sam said. I thought for a moment. My fanfiction about Sam was a little unclear and bizarre.

"Morning sickness...3 months along, you'll feel better by noon. A boy to be named Buster, by the way. Exam room 9. Gilbert?" Mort looked irritated as Gilbert slowly got up and half-staggered to the desk. What a dizzy guy...poor kid.

"Boy to be named Albert, and no, I don't know how this happened to you. Exam room 6. Mort, you can come up now."

"I'm here for a test." he said. I nodded understandingly.

"I took one of them once...most suspenseful 3 minutes of my life. You don't need one, it's just a little pyschosomatic thing called 'couvade', or 'sympathetic pregnancy'. You're method writing. Go home and keep writing, but if it gets really bad I'll give you some pills for it. 'Kay?"

"'Kay..." Mort shrugged and left the room. I grinned to myself. If method writing got him this bad, imagine how effective placebos would be in curing him. I turned back to the computer, where a Microsoft XL document was open. In some of the boxes there were names of Johnny Depp characters, and names of their children. I had a similar chart up in my room on my wall, in pencil, but I always kept a digital version for safekeeping. I looked at Mort's name and pondered for a moment: should I take him off the chart because it was imagined?

_Was_ it imagined?

Hmm...


End file.
